GIESSBACH.

THE two girls squealed with delight over the picture. "Just see! three falls, one on top of the other!" declared Fannie. "Oh dear me! How I should like to see them! You can't tell any thing by looking at a picture."

Tom came and looked over their shoulders.

"Where is the thing?" he asked.

"Why, it is that wonderful Giessbach fall in Switzerland that Mr. Warder told us about. He said it was just the loveliest view in all Switzerland; and he promised aunt Kate a picture of it. But pictures are the most unsatisfactory things! I want to see the color of the rocks, and the little ferns and bushes growing about, and hear the water dashing. But I don't suppose I ever shall see or hear any such things. I expect to fly, just as much as I expect to go to Switzerland."

"You needn't go to Switzerland to see a grand waterfall," declared Tom. "I don't believe Giessbach with its horrible name, is any finer than Cheyenne Cañon fall, that I stood under only last week. I tell you, Fannie, that was a sight! Three falls, distinct from each other, yet all tumbling into one at the bottom, and making the grandest kind of white foam. I stood as close to it as I do to you, and the spray came all over my face. Then we went up the mountain and looked down on it all. How many falls do you think we saw then? Seven of them, all roaring down together. That was a sight to remember, and we didn't have to go abroad for it, either. You can just make up your mind, Fannie, that there are about as grand things to look at in our own country as can be found anywhere."

But Fannie was in the mood to grumble:

"Oh, well, one might as well go abroad as to go to Colorado; I don't expect ever to be able to go there, either."

"Humph!" said Tom. "Neither did I expect to; I could have imagined myself in the moon as well as in Colorado, three weeks before I went; yet I went, and so may you. People can't ever tell what may happen to them. You just remember that when you do go, there is one place to see; the falls of Cheyenne Cañon. People who have seen both, say that there is nothing grander in Switzerland than they get up in that cañon."

Cora, meantime, had been listening in silence, gazing with thoughtful, far-away eyes at the picture. At last she spoke:

"Tom, what did you think of when you stood looking up at the wonderful foamy water coming down from so high a place?"

Tom's face flushed a little.

"People think different things," he said, laughing. "As I stood there looking at it, I said, 'What a grand place that would be for a shower bath. I'd just like to go and stand under it, and take a good one.' There was a little chap stood by me, a pale-faced fellow with blue eyes, who had taken off his cap and stared up without speaking, for ten minutes. Just then he turned to me and said:"

"'I've been thinking how easy it must be for God to make wonderful things! Here he has made all this white water and tumbled it down from away up in heaven—that is the way it looks—just for the sake of giving these old still rocks something bright to play with.'"

"Wasn't that a poetical thought? Sounds like you, Cora. It made me think of you at the time."